


Festive Inquiries

by Ashtree11



Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, F/F, Smut, injecting more of my headcanons onto these two, it started off so fluff and then it turned into this, that's a tag?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtree11/pseuds/Ashtree11
Summary: A long draw of a bow over violin strings fills the cold December morning. The sun rises over New York, and the first notes of a familiar Christmas melody answers in kind. Jesse blurrily opens her eyes at the sound of music filling the bedroom. Groggy and confused, she waves a heavy arm at Emily’s side of the bed.ORJesse and Emily spend Christmas morning together.
Relationships: Jesse Faden/Emily Pope
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	Festive Inquiries

**Author's Note:**

> *deep breath*  
> sooooo i had this planned to be a nice and short little fic of domestic christmas fluff.... but then some enabling happened and here we are a week late, over 3k words later, and with sin  
> thank you to Saint and Shinji for enabling /this/ i hope you guys like it X3  
> And thank you Quali for the title

A long draw of a bow over violin strings fills the cold December morning. The sun rises over New York, and the first notes of a familiar Christmas melody answers in kind.

Jesse blurrily opens her eyes at the sound of music filling the bedroom. Groggy and confused, she waves a heavy arm at Emily’s side of the bed. “Izzat your alarm, Em?” she slurs.

Silence.

“Emily?” She sits up and finally her eyes fully open to find the bed empty, and the song continues to play from outside. Was she watching something on TV?

Tugging on her socks, Jesse pads out of the bedroom. Right away her eyes are assaulted by the sudden glare of the morning sun coming in from the glass door leading to the balcony. The curtains had been drawn, though she distinctly remembers closing them last night, and the door is open just a crack. While she’s left to blink through the burning light, her ears still pick up the music. It’s definitely louder now.

When her eyes finally adjust, she sees an open instrument case laid out on the couch. It looked old, the surface is cracked and even pieces of it are missing entirely. Jesse recognizes the shape to resemble that of a guitar, but it was far too small to be one. 

She looks towards the balcony doors where Emily’s familiar form is facing away from her. Her short blond hair is noticeably uncombed and mussed up, as if she had just woken up and came to the balcony first thing. Though at least she had the sense to put on a scarf and sweater beforehand. With posture perfectly straight, her arm draws the bow over the strings of a violin, fluidly and masterfully serenading the morning with “The First Noelle.” 

Eyebrows raised in surprise and lips upturned in an enchanted smile, Jesse moves towards the balcony door and slides it open. She says nothing though and instead leans against the doorframe, hands stuffed into the pockets of her sweatpants while she watches Emily play. Occasionally she could see the short puffs of cold breath emit from the woman’s mouth and a ghost of a smile resting there as she swayed to and fro along with the music.

Icy winds blow over the space raising goosebumps on Jesse’s arms despite the long sleeved shirt she wore. But she forgets the cold—she’s felt way worse than this—and her eyelids fall shut to let the music wash over with the afterimage of the sun illuminating Emily’s head like a halo lingering in her retinas.

All too soon though, the song fades with a long, drawn note, and is replaced with a soft chuckle that coaxes her eyes to open once more.

“Well, good morning,” Emily greets. “Get enough sleep?”

“Plenty,” she grins and rubs her eye with her palm. “I gotta say, waking up is my favorite part now.”

Emily rolls her eyes, but her smile doesn’t falter and the red in her cheeks wasn’t just from the cold. “Sap.”

“Only to you. I still got an image to maintain.” She jerks her chin towards the violin. “Didn’t know you played.”

Emily holds the instrument up, looking at its glossy body sheepishly. “Not as often as I used to, but I woke up feeling festive and figured, ‘why not.’”

“Genius scientist for the FBC, speaks french,  _ and  _ plays violin?” Jesse lists with an exaggerated swoon. “Careful now, I’m starting to feel out of my league here.”

To that Emily saunters over, smirking. “Director of the FBC, powerful paraulitarian, speaker of German  _ and _ Spanish, and movie buff extraordinaire. I believe  _ I _ should be the one to feel out of my league. But such metrics are arbitrary.” Once the two are face to face, she ends the statement with a lingering kiss on Jesse’s lips. “Merry Christmas, Jesse.”

Jesse wraps her arms around Emily’s hips, pulling her flush against her front and kisses her nose. “Merry Christmas, Em.”

Emily shivers and burrows deeper into the embrace, making Jeese laugh heartily. “Alright you heat vampire, let’s get you inside.”

“Will a serenade be enough to convince you to make hot chocolate for us?” Emily asks, still clinging to her while she guides them back into the apartment.

“Wow, I  _ just _ learned something new about you and I’m already getting bribed with it. Eager to get back into playing that much?” Jesse teases, though she starts waddling them towards the kitchen regardless.

“‘Bribe’ makes it sound so devious,” Emily lightly protests. “I’m just making sure I’m not going to lose the ability any time soon. I sounded awful before my warm up scales kicked in, I’m glad you at least slept through that.”

“You sure being out in twelve-degree weather didn’t have anything to do with that?”

“Hm.” A pause. “Yes, that is... likely.”

Jesse pulls away when they stop at the entrance to the kitchen, and raises Emily’s free hand up to kiss her fingers. She rubs her thumbs over the stubborn coldness still coating them, tracing along the little impressions on Emily’s fingertips left behind by the violin strings. 

“Alright then, one hot chocolate coming right up,” Jesse winks and gets to work.

Emily, meanwhile, heads into the living room and repositions the violin back under her chin. “Any requests?” she asks over the squeaking cabinets opening and the clattering of pots and pans until Jesse finds the one she needs.

“You’re the expert.” Jesse calls back and goes to sift through the fridge for the milk and heavy cream.

“Come on, there’s got to be at least  _ one _ carol you’d want to hear,” she insists.

“I worked at a grocery store once, Em,” Jesse deadpans as she dumps dark chocolate morsels into a bowl without breaking eye contact with her. “Christmas carols blurred together for me a long time ago, so I’m okay with whatever you want to play.”

Sighing in faux exasperation, Emily readies her bow and draws a steadying breath out of habit.

Jesse smiles down at her mixture on the stovetop when she hears the beginnings of “Carol of the Bells” filter into the small kitchen. 

Emily starts slow and uncertain, feeling out the notes and working her fingers to find them on the fretless neck of the violin. One note at a time, she discovers and rediscovers. Before long, the confidence that gave way to “The First Noelle” returns and the tempo that “Carol of the Bells” is known for is in full swing.

“With or without cinnamon, Em?” Jesse asks over the music.

“Without, please,” Emily calls back, not missing a beat.

Moving along with the rhythm of the song, Jesse stirs in the cocoa powder, pours in the chocolate chips into the warm milk and cream, and finally, in sync with Emily’s ending flourish of her bow, she adds a pinch of salt.

Within minutes and a taste-test later, the apartment becomes saturated in the sweet aroma. To top it off, Jesse uncaps their can of whipped cream and swirls a generous helping into each mug. She pauses to think a moment... then proceeds to do the same directly into her mouth.

At last, two steaming mugs are brought into the living room and Emily’s eyes visibly brightens. She sets the instrument back in its case without a second thought.

“Not too hot, extra chocolate, and no cinnamon,” Jesse relays, handing her one of the mugs as they settle on opposite ends of the sofa with their backs against the arm rests. Emily thanks her and takes an eager sip. “So... the violin, huh?”

“You still sound so surprised,” Emily chuckles into her drink.

“Well yeah! We’ve been dating for how long now? How come you never told me?”

Emily shrugs as she sips. “It hasn’t crossed my mind until recently. I haven’t played since before the Hiss lockdown and I’ve been kept plenty busy since then.”

“Did you ever want to do it professionally?”

“You mean like performing in an orchestra? No, never. Science has always been my first choice. Violin is just something I keep for myself.”

“Ah. So let me guess, it was your parents’ idea to have you learn when you were...” Jesse pauses to fish for a number, “six years old.”

“Close,” Emily chirps, “I was nine and we went to see a Christmas recital. It just took one rendition of “The First Noelle” on a viola to plant the idea in my head.”

Jesse raises a brow. “How was I close? Sounds like I was dead wrong.”

“You guessed that I started fairly young. That was enough to earn you some pity points.”

“Gee,  _ thanks _ ,” she says with feigned sarcasm. “At any rate, whoever that musician was, they should be pretty damn honored that they inspired you that much. You sounded great.”

Emily bows her head. “I’m glad I could do the song justice. But enough about me. Any hidden passions I should know about you?”

To that, Jesse throws her head back and laughs. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be an actress.”

“Bullshit,” Emily giggles along. “You?”

“It’s true, scout’s honor.” Jesse holds up three fingers. “I was gonna be a triple threat and make it big.”

Emily feels a bit of heat rush to her cheeks, recalling that Jesse is indeed a very capable dancer. Wait...  _ triple _ threat? “You sing?”

“And that,” Jesse sighs melodramatically, “is where the dream died. Can’t hold a note to save my ass.”

“Well you’re sure in trouble if Arish ever proposes a company karaoke night again.”

“And you’re not? What, is this the part where you reveal that you’re some master vocalist too?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but my voice is only good for relaying scientific inquiry and telling you to keep cinnamon out my hot cocoas.”

Then Jesse’s lips upturn into a mischievous smile, her pupils dilating as she readies to say—

But Emily playfully kicks her foot before she could even take a breath. “Out of the gutter, Faden,” she admonishes.

“Aw come on,” Jesse, unaffected by the action, leans further forward, “you T-ed that up so good and I’m  _ not _ supposed to swing?”

“Honestly,” Emily sighs, albeit weakly as she hides her face behind a gulp of her drink. “I’m not that bad.”

Unrelenting, Jesse lowers her tone an octave and sets aside her mug on the coffee table. “I just was gonna say how I already think your voice is beautiful on the regular, but _man_ ,” her fingers, warm from holding the drink, splay over Emily’s shin, traveling slowly upward as she speaks, “when it’s just us, I could listen to you all night. That violin of yours can’t even hold a candle.”

The researcher’s grip on the mug tightens as a spark ignites in her chest and her eyes are unable to decide between watching Jesse inching forward or at the hand making its way up her leg. Try as she might, she couldn’t stifle the shiver that runs up her spine when their faces become mere inches apart.

“Still cold?” Jesse snidely remarks.

An idea whispers itself in Emily’s ear. Stifling a devious grin, she says, “What do you plan to do if I say yes?”

Jesse smiles, flashing her canines. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

“Hm. Physical demonstrations  _ are _ proven to be more effective in many scenarios of inquiry,” Emily states in the same tone she uses when she’s following a train of thought.

“Glad you agree, Dr. Pope.” Jesse grabs her mug by the top and sets it beside her own on the coffee table.

Without further preamble, Emily tugs the front of Jesse’s sweatshirt and pulls her into a fiery kiss complimented by the richness of the chocolate lingering on both their lips. “I was enjoying that, you know,” she utters in between breaths. 

“I’m glad my hot chocolate making skills still hold up.” Both Jesse’s hands sneak beneath Emily’s shirt, trailing fire everywhere her fingers linger on her bare skin.

“It’s a shame that it’s going to go cold though.” Emily wraps her arms around her neck, and one hand rises to thread through her red hair, pulling her closer until she’s flush on top of her.

“I can reheat it later,” Jesse promises against the corner of Emily’s mouth before turning her attention to trailing kisses along her jaw. “But let’s get  _ you _ warmed up first.”

Emily laughs through the shudder that wracks her body as Jesse nibbles the length of her neck. “You know, I  _ would _ ask what’s gotten into you all of a sudden.” 

“But...?” Jesse drawls teasingly.

The wicked smile that follows catches Jesse by surprise, making her halt in her affections just long enough to suddenly find herself lying flat on her back and Emily hovering above her.

“I don’t give a damn,” Emily punctuates.

Trying and failing to suppress the flush in her cheeks, Jesse manages to say, “Isn’t this going to compromise the results of the physical demonstration?”

“I like to think of it more like a change in perspective,” she smoothly counters. “The view is quite stunning, in my professional opinion by the way.”

“You know I can just flip us back over right?” Jesse quips with a raised brow.

With the grin still in place, Emily descends and ghosts her lips over Jesse’s. All the while, she rests one of her hands over the base of her throat, thumbing at its center where she could feel Jesse swallow thickly. “Do it then.”

The two lock into a staredown, staccato breaths passing between them with rising anticipation.

There’s a single muscle twitch, a quirk of a brow.

Then stillness.

“Interesting,” Emily’s grin turns triumphant, eyes bright like she made a discovery, yet Jesse could see the teasing twinkle hiding just underneath. She slips her free hand beneath Jesse’s shirt, tracing her fingertips over her toned abdomen before reaching up to palm her breast.

Jesse inhales, soft and slow, her hands moving up to hold the hips straddling her. She feels the hand at her throat travel to the back of her head where fingers curl into a fistful of her hair; not quite hard enough to pull, but enough to coax her lips to meet Emily’s in another kiss. The heat brewing within her grows, sending flares through her that made it harder and harder to think clearly.

Emily shifts to slot her thigh between Jesse’s, pulling a sharper gasp from her and, taking advantage of Jesse’s parted lips, she slips her tongue inside. The grip on her hips squeezes. A hum reverberates between them, though who it came from mattered little though as they deepened the kiss with mutual breathless fervor. 

Emily’s fingers curl tighter in her hair, her thumb swipes over a nipple, earning a moan and an upward jerk of Jesse’s hips that soon devolve into a rhythmic rise and fall, stoking the flames higher and higher still.

The friction of Emily’s leg, the fingers tugging at her hair, the hand massaging her breast, the tongue dancing with hers still rich with residual chocolate, the rising heat in her core—there’s so much yet still not enough, and it makes her head spin. “E-Em,” she croaks.

“Hm?” Emily replies coyly, breaking their liplock to nibble on Jesse’s earlobe. She smiles knowingly when Jesse grinds harder against her with a quiet whimper as electricity shoots down her spine. It never ceases to amaze her how sensitive the woman’s ears are.

The whine however turns into a low growl and soon Jesse’s hands tangle in Emily’s hair, nails scratching over her scalp with unspoken, irritated desperation that’s contrasted by the weak, “Emily, please” that hisses past Jesse’s kiss-swollen lips.

Emily winces with a barely suppressed groan at the sensation, but she gets the hint loud and clear. Her fingers untwist from the red hair, loosening to instead cradle the back of Jesse’s neck while her other hand slides down her trembling torso, past the elastic waistband of her sweatpants where she gives the awaiting warm slit a long, languid stroke.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Jesse chokes out.

Emily pauses, ignoring the impatient noises rumbling at the back of Jesse’s throat to admire in her disheveled state in all its beauty. From her mussed up hair, her reddened cheeks resting below her lust hazed eyes, her strong jaw slack with panting breaths, she commits it all to memory. She swirls her finger over Jesse’s clit, paying extra mind to also coat them generously with her arousal before she locks their lips in one more kiss, swallowing the small wines that spill from Jesse the longer she prolonged the inevitable.

“H-having fun there?” Jesse says as exasperated as she could manage when they separate.

“Lots,” Emily purrs, applying just enough extra pressure to make Jesse keen, “because you’ve made me curious, Jesse.”

“Huh?”

“I’m wondering...” Emily intones, briefly releasing her hold on the back of Jesse’s neck to caress her bottom lip with her thumb. “Who is the vocal one now?”

Jesse freezes, the lustful glaze in her eye blinks away as she regains a shred of clarity and narrows with realization. “You—Oh my fucking g—ah!” A finger slips inside of her, followed closely by another.

“Sorry, what was that, Madame Director?”

Any quips or challenging remarks she had either died or lodged themselves in her throat when those  _ damn _ fingers started moving. Not wanting to give Emily another victory, Jesse pulls her down and bites her clothed shoulder—not hard, never hard, but enough to stifle her own noises in favor of finally pulling one from Emily.

A groan does indeed tumble from the researcher’s lips, making her thrusting fingers falter in their rhythm. But a breathy laugh catches the end of that startled sound and she finds her tempo once more. It’s not unlike playing her violin, she realizes. There is a sound she wants to hear, a note she _ needs _ to hit. She can’t do that when Jesse’s teeth are clamped on her. “I would like to hear you, Jesse,” she requests, softly and in a low murmur as she slows her fingers’ cadence in tandem.

Bashfulness isn’t an emotion Jesse often feels. Self consciousness, maybe; doubtfulness, in healthy amounts. But  _ bashfulness _ ? This is a woman who can throw forklifts with her mind, can face down an evil alien resonance and a one-eyed eldritch worm... thing without breaking a sweat. This isn’t her first time with Emily either, not by a longshot. So why does she still feel a blush rushing to her ears? Then again, bashfulness aside, it isn’t as though she could ever deny Emily of anything either.

On a long drawn inhale, her jaw unhinges, releasing Emily’s shoulder and leaving behind a teeth ring on the fabric of her shirt. 

Emily hums in approval, and rewards her with a deep thrust, and another, and another until the sounds that follow become music. Though Jesse resorts to burying her noises into Emily’s shirt, she could still hear just fine.

“I’m finding your comment about not being able to sing to be inaccurate,” she muses, as she increases her pace. “Are you close?” A superfluous question, definitely, she could already feel Jesse’s walls beginning to flutter and clench on her fingers. But she wanted to ask regardless, even if only to hear Jesse’s raspy response.

“Y-yeah,” Jesse stutters. “Fuck, Emily, I—”

Right then she hits that crest, her back arches and wave after wave of pulsing heat floods her senses. 

She barely registers how Emily rocks her fingers within her to help her ride out the blissful ecstasy, but she does feel the little peppering kisses on her forehead and along her cheeks as she gradually comes down from it.

Her arms fall away from around Emily’s back, relaxed and limp at her sides. Her clothes are smothering, but she lacks the energy to do anything about it, even less so when Emily tucks away the stray strands of sweat slick bangs from her forehead and nestles comfortably against her side.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” Jesse pants through her daze, though she made no effort to hide the smile on her face as she noses Emily’s soft tresses.

“And I’ve gathered valuable data as a result,” she counters haughtily.

Jesse scoffs. “Should I expect a full report on my desk tomorrow morning?”

“Perhaps. Or I could just relay my findings via another demonstration. More effective that way, wouldn’t you think?”

Despite her exhaustion, Jesse laughs. “Well, this has been a pretty productive Christmas then, huh? What were we even talking about before this?”

“Irrelevant,” Emily states lazily and shuts her eyes.

“Wait, don’t you want a turn?”

“Hm. Maybe later.” She burrows deeper into the crook of Jesse’s neck, wrapping her arms tighter around her like she was clutching a teddy bear. “You’re nice and warm enough for me already.”

Jesse rolls her eyes, but there’s no further protests as the two simply hold each other for the remainder of their shared Christmas morning.

**Author's Note:**

> woo! last fic of the year, hope you liked it :3  
> as always you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Ashtree111)  
> happy new year!


End file.
